Free Gifted (Rockstar Christmas Romance) (Lost in Oblivion, 4.2) by Cari Quinn, Taryn Elliott Page A

in the band house tonight. Oblivion was definitely being reached.
    Happy holidays indeed.
    Now the only one who remained in the living room was crotchety Saint Nick, who was still sitting in his rocker, the wilted sack between his feet and a peevish expression on his face as he tugged on his beard.
    “Ah, to hell with it,” he said finally, flinging the straggling white thing in the direction of the tree. It caught on one of the branches.
    Lila laughed, shaking her head. Laughing was good. It helped stave off the nerves, and oh Lord, there were so many of them. “Bet it feels good to take that off.”
    “There’s a few other things I’d like to take off. Like these stupid pants.” He toed off his heavy boots, then stuck out his legs. “If you knew how much I paid for this ridiculous costume, you’d be horrified.”
    “Why did you buy a Santa costume?” she asked softly. If he said to entertain the babies, she’d probably melt into mush right in front of him. She couldn’t imagine what could make her turn into a puddle faster.
    Hell, he was probably waging a campaign to ensure she didn’t back out of their one-night reprieve. Not that he had to worry. She was too loose and relaxed after her wonderful evening with the band to want to think about pictures and scandals or to worry about her job or soon-to-be ex-husband.
    She just wanted to love and be loved, for one night.
    Tomorrow, she’d go back to her responsibilities. To real life, no matter how chilly and lonely it was without Nick’s grousing and his rumbled words against her ear, usually dirty, scandalous things that made her blush.
    “I got it to wear when we went back home to see your folks.” He tugged on his belt, undoing it with a grunt. “Figured it would be a good way to hide in plain sight. Then we ended up not hiding at all.”
    And yep, that was the only thing that could make her turn into a pile of goo quicker. He’d gotten the Santa costume so he could go home to be with her and her family without anyone being the wiser. Anyone like the paparazzi, who were so eager to trap someone caught in a downfall. Or better yet, eager to make someone’s downfall come that much faster.
    Like, say, a married—but soon-to-be divorced—woman and the guitarist of a rock band she managed.
    She swallowed thickly. “No. We didn’t hide from anyone.”
    They’d played in the snow like children and kissed in front of her parents and store patrons and anyone who happened to walk by. They’d held hands and laughed and…well, for lack of a better word, romped .
    She’d been part of something she’d never hoped to wish for again, until Nick had blown into her life and smashed it wide open. She’d been part of a couple. A real one this time. One with arguments and joy and inside jokes and sex .
    God, the sex.
    He patted his lap. “C’mere.”
    She went, helpless to say no. It would all be worth it tomorrow—the pain, the regret, the distance they needed to keep between them for so many reasons. As long as she could have him tonight.
    Actually getting on his lap was a bit of a challenge. She tried to be dainty about it, but he wasn’t having that. He slid his arm around her waist and hauled her across his legs, then dipped them both to grab the sack at his feet. “Your gifts are in here. I kept them aside.”
    “Gifts, plural?” She tried to catch her breath as she shifted on his lap to try to get more comfortable—and to avoid contact with his cock. If she felt it against her hip, she’d forget all about wrapped gifts and go right for the best present of them all.
    “One was spur-of-the-moment. Hell, both were. But one was really spur. Like tonight kind of spur.” He shoved the sack at her and nodded at her raised eyebrows. “Open the bag, Li.”
    She sighed. Using the nickname he’d come up with for her was his not-so-secret weapon. Well, his second nickname for her. The first wasn’t as nice, but she’d grown to love that one too.
    Pulling